The Merchant of Venice, Said Amphitheatre, Oxford, review

Natalie Abrahami’s revival of Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice is
admirable, but sometimes feels too frisky for its own good, writes Dominic
Cavendish.

3

The Merchant of Venice at the Said Amphitheatre, Oxford.

5:17PM BST 27 Jul 2012

The more you look at The Merchant of Venice, the more fascinating it gets. In it, notoriously, a Jewish moneylender – Shylock – tries to exact vengeance on the titular merchant, Antonio, claiming his pound of flesh in forfeit of the three thousand ducats he lent him. To do this he sticks to the letter of the law, is in turn defeated by the letter of the law and is then subjected to vengeance himself by that same judicial authority, which is punitively framed against him as “an alien”.

People rightly get exercised about whether or not the play is anti-Semitic. It seems to me to be impossible for anyone to assert conclusively that it is, it’s so carefully constructed to show the vileness of Christian prejudice, not least that of Antonio. The play trades in ugly behaviour but doesn’t endorse it. Shylock may go too far but he is pushed.

His Jewishness is at once central and beside the bigger point, which is the way our lives are governed by the counterweight needs to find love and make money. The word “heart” occurs some 26 times and it is Antonio’s heart – rashly risked on behalf of the too fondly cherished Bassanio, who’s chronically in debt and hoping to woo fair Portia, “a lady richly left” – that Shylock heartlessly claims as his own. The two men, both loner-outsiders operating within a mercantile system vulnerable to unexpected shocks, might almost be flip-sides of the same coin.

In short, it’s a complex work. Some of this complexity comes across very well in Natalie Abrahami’s admirable revival for Oxford’s Creation theatre company, which perches high up in the outdoor amphitheatre at the Said Business School – at least on balmy nights (when the weather is poor, there’s a backup stage indoors).

Using an ingenious set-design by Oliver Townsend that rotates a cluster of container crates on a wooden revolve, she conjures the play’s various bustling milieux and the head-spinning mood swings between seriousness and frivolity, enmity and affection. Sometimes the evening feels a little too frisky for its own good – the vaguely 20s, flapper-age vibe in the costumes and live music doesn’t add much, and some of the comic performances, could be toned down a bit.

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Jonathan Oliver makes a sober, dignified Shylock – calculating but not too coldly so, yet he could dig deeper into the character’s pain; and Scott Brooksbank’s amiable Antonio sometimes seems too sanguine about his fate – his wretchedness isn’t fully explored. There’s a great glinting stash of promise among the fresh-faced members of the ensemble, though. Jack Monaghan’s romantic, dreamy Lorenzo, Fiona Sheehan’s wide-eyed, ardent Jessica and Leila Crerar’s bright-witted Portia all possess natural charm which, coupled with the play’s innate fascination, make this well worth a look if you’re in the vicinity and the skies are clear. The al fresco Shakespeare brigade have had a rough summer so far. As with Team GB, it’s only right we turn out to cheer them on.